


Figure it Out

by theoraclespecialist



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Confessions, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sports, awkward boys, happy ending sort of, mostly canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 08:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10434039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoraclespecialist/pseuds/theoraclespecialist
Summary: How Dele and Eric confront their feelings during the international break.





	

“Did you check out the playlist?”

“Which one?”

“The one with Kilo9 and Seb?”

“Oh, no, haven’t really gotten around to it,”

Eric was lying through his teeth; he had already listened to the tracks ten or twelve times in succession but he couldn’t let Dele know. They jogged onto the pitch and were made to run laps between the cones. The fuzzy warmth of spring broke through the wind, the sun lapping over their bodies as they dashed around. Training with the England squad felt quieter, more relaxed, and somewhat slower, especially in light of their horrific performance in the European Championships the year before. Not that this was a positive element but Eric could exhale knowing that he and the boys would not have to move mountains to impress the media and the public this year.

“He’s just figuring things out,” said Stonesy, as they were stretching near the goal.

Their manager, Gareth Southgate, stood awkwardly at the edge of the pitch, holding a clipboard in hand, his brows furrowed as his gaze scrambled from player to player. He blew whistles every now and then, instructing Sterling or Barkley on their passing skills.

“I think it’s a good thing,” added Stonesy.

Eric couldn’t fathom the statement as he eyed his harried manager mumbling to his assistant. “How?”

“We’ve obviously hit all the lows we could. Maybe it’s time we get someone who wants to take a step back, experiment, someone preparing for the best, hoping for the best,”

“Where is all that phi...” Before Eric could finish his sentence, he felt a cold hand  slapping against his face and a body enveloping his upper body. “Christ, Dele,”

“Did I scare you?” He attempted to hop onto Eric’s back but Eric’s sitting posture made it fairly difficult. Nevertheless, he dropped down next to them and popped open the lid of an abandoned water bottle with his mouth.

Stonesy winced at him. “You don’t know where that’s been,”

Dele smiled as he tipped over the bottle, the water gushing into his mouth. Then he aimed the opening of the bottle at Stonesy and pressed down the middle, causing water to spurt at John’s unassuming face.

“Fucking hell,” He covered what he could with his hand and jerked away.

Dele broke out into laughter. Eric, reacting to Dele’s amusement and Stonesy’s ridiculous effort in trying to protect himself, also laughed quietly. Stones shook his head, standing up. “Control your lad,” He directed at Eric before trudging off to fetch a towel.

“You’re really showing your age there,” Eric remarked, grinning down at Dele.

“That’s what I’m here for,”

Dele readjusted his body to lay himself flat on the ground, resting his head on Eric’s lap. It had become such a regular position for the two of them that Eric’s hand naturally moved for Dele’s hair, his fingers caressing the curls. Dele’s scent of coffee and mint was wafting onto Eric’s body, sweetening his senses that have already etched in the fragrances. “You seem tired,” said Dele, his eyes squinting at the shots of sunlight piercing his vision, yet he tried to maintain his eye contact with Eric.

Eric looked down at Dele considerately. “I don’t know where we’re going,”

“What?” Dele froze.

Eric shrugged. “I don’t know. Boss seems like he doesn’t really have a direction for the team. Dropping Wazza and picking chickens from relegation...what the fuck are we even doing?”

Eric could feel Dele exhale, the warmth of his breath clouding in the air. “Maybe it’s a good thing. We’re being realistic and playing carefully. No time for sentiments or emotions. It’s keep your head down and do work,”

“You, especially,” Eric warned, pressing down his thumb on Dele’s forehead.

Dele held onto Eric’s hand and chuckled. “You don’t want me to head the balls into the net?”

“Meh, anyone can do that,” Eric said teasingly.

The way Dele giggled and turned his head made Eric’s heart grow five times its size. He couldn’t stand it. He hadn’t had a problem with it for all of last season, but someone early this season said to him, ‘Where’s bae?’ and he realized, as if a thunderbolt had knocked him off his axis, that they were talking about Dele. It was a ridiculous statement obviously but as Eric shifted in his sleep that night, he knew that the joke was slipping slowly into reality. It wasn’t funny when Dele lied on his lap; it was snug and pleasant. It wasn’t funny when Dele chuckled in embarrassment; it was enthralling. It wasn’t funny when Dele gazed into his eyes and told him to toughen up on the pitch; it was captivating. And the way Eric felt his stomach buzz through when Dele climbed onto his back? Not funny, either.

 

 

After their training session, which included a set of five-a-side games, they retreated to the cafeteria for dinner. Eric was busy in conversation with Sterling and Ross, so Dele trailed off, got his plate of macaroni and juice, and scuttled off to a table on his own. _I don’t know where we’re going_. Dele had never felt more relieved to be complaining about the future, or lack thereof, of the England national football team. He has been dreading the moment Eric addresses what had changed between the two of them. He did not really know what had changed, but he knew something was itching underneath, restless, agitated, determined to break the surface.

Jesse, Alex and Kyle shuffled towards his table, blocking his view of Eric. Dele shook his head as the boys pulled up chairs and slammed down their trays. “Dele, Dele, Dele...”

Dele sipped the mango juice. “What do ya morons want?”

“Don’t you look so lonely without your beloved,”

Dele snorted, as he cut into his food. They began talking about other stuff but he would still try to steal a glance or two of Eric. Thankfully, Eric seemed immersed in his entertaining conversation at the other table and did not catch Dele gaping at him. Dele has had to control his behaviour the past season, yet he found himself straying every now and then. Upon going through his social media feeds, he had realized how obsessed he had become with Dier, so he resolved to moderate his behaviour and let their friendship evolve as normally as it could.

“What’s got you so sulky, lad?” Alex asked, smirking.

Dele reacted with a look of bemusement.

“Is it your bird? What’s her name? Pearl, Sapphire...”

Dele lowered his head. “Ruby,”

“Aaah!” Jesse cheered. “Has she found another man or what? Someone with a better fade?”

“We...we’re not really...” Dele paused, and chewed his bottom lip. “It’s complicated,”

Thankfully, the boys did not bother poking through the issue any further as Dele was making it quite clear how little he wanted to talk about it. He himself did not have a full grasp over the situation. Even though everyone knew her as the girlfriend, he hardly perceived her in that capacity. They had slept together a few times and being the man he was, he took her out to clubs and restaurants. They drank wine, laughed a little bit and he drove her home. But he was not in love. He was not even under the false facade of infatuation. She was a friend, if not an acquaintance from whom he sought sexual pleasure a few times. Mechanical, mindless sexual pleasure.

“Oye, Dele!” Dele raised his head to see who had called his name. All the faces at Eric’s tables were steered toward him. “Is it true? Did Eric really meg you three times?”

Eric looked exceptionally overjoyed that Dele simply had to curl his lips in a reluctant grin. “Maybe,”

“I told you! Yes, yes!” Eric lifted his arms and pointed towards the roof as if he had just scored a goal. Ross and Sterling were shaking their heads, somewhat impressed but mostly annoyed.

Eric quickly shot Dele a glance of gratitude and proceeded to continue the conversation with his mates at the table. Dele turned back to his food; there was no being in the earth that could nutmeg him but for a second, he let himself lie.

 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the boys were filtering back into the warmth of their rooms. With their light heads, heavy stomachs and sore bodies, they craved for the comfort of their beds. Dele, too, didn’t think he would be lifting his body off the supple bed until he read a text from Eric. “For fuck’s sake...”

The coolness of the air shattered his face as he stepped into the pitch. Eric was dribbling a ball along, sliding it around his feet, doing tricks, bouncing it against his ankle. Dele thought he could see his breath in the air. “What’s the matter?” he asked, a little berated.

Eric looked up from the ball, the light off the post emanating across his face. “I thought I could practice with you...”

Dele grimaced. “Me?”

Eric shrugged. “Why not?”

Despite the slight confusion on his part, Dele agreed and they practiced their passes along multiple formations down the pitch. Even though every movement was straining through Dele’s muscles, he carried on for the sake of his best friend. Finally, after about thirty minutes, Eric dropped to his knees and signaled for the end of their session. They grabbed waters from the lounge and headed back to their rooms.

“What gave you this crazy idea to drill in the night?” Dele asked, as they went up the elevator.

The door opened. “Well, haven’t played there in a while. I don’t want to seem like an idiot on the pitch,”

“You mean the midfield?”

Eric pursed his lips and stared at the floor as they walked silently towards their rooms. Dele halted by his door. “Do you want to come in? If you’re not sleepy...we could chill out with a movie or something,”

The only film they had on was some pulpy action flick from the nineties, yet they settled under the covers to watch it. Dele broke out a bag of chips he had exclusively carried in his luggage for occasions such as this. The soft beige light off the lamp glowed over their faces as Dele pretended to be engrossed by the film. Leaning against the headboard, Dele could only resist being completely overtaken by the magic of Eric’s presence. Their bodies inches away from each other, Eric’s toes wriggling near Dele’s feet, his head slanted near Dele’s body, the scent of his aftershave wafting by...he did not know if he was being obvious but his heart had sped up, his bones getting stiffer.

Dele bit his lip when the commercials came on. “I miss you, know...”

Eric looked up at him, his blank expression urging Dele to explain himself. “In the midfield. Right behind me,”

Eric smiled, turned his head away. “I do, too. Why do you think I’ve been so shit this season?”

Dele felt his fingers extend towards Eric’s shoulder in comfort. “You haven’t been shit. You haven’t set the world on fire but you’ve been reliable. That’s all anyone wants from you,”

Eric snorted. “Tell that to those awful mistakes I made against Gent and Liverpool,”

“You’re talking to the guy who got a red and failed his entire team!”

“You didn’t fail anyone!” insisted Eric, sitting up.

“Exactly,” Dele agreed. “We all make mistakes and it’s just part of football. When the season is done and dusted, nobody’s going to talk about your mistakes. They _will_ be talking about my challenge, though,”

Their agitated conversation was much more stimulating than the theatrics of the film that had been paused in the background. Finally, Eric dropped the issue and conceded. “You’re right. I guess I feel like an outlier in a team full of stars,”

“You’re the guy who gets the job done and doesn’t ask for attention. Quiet but effective. I think that’s the best wonderful thing about you,”

Eric grinned self-consciously. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

Their eyes met for a quick second and Dele could feel fireworks exploding in his chest. Dele cleared his throat and spoke, “I had this crazy idea...and you..can...totally...um, you can totally decide whatever you...want to...I, erm, I mean...” The words leaped out of him like a fish squirming on land.

Eric wrinkled his forehead and then smirked at Dele’s nervousness but was very careful not to say anything to disrupt Dele’s train of thought.

“Do you want to go out sometimes?”

“Of course. When have I ever said no to that?” he said casually.

Dele sighed and shifted haphazardly in place. “I mean...like just the two of us, going somewhere nice...”

Eric blinked and laughed. “Like a date?”

“Um, no...” said Dele, rubbing his chin with his thumb. “I mean...if you want, then sure...as a date but it can be...”

Eric gently placed his hand on Dele’s arm and focused his piercing blue eyes at Dele. “I didn’t know you were...”

“I’m not...or maybe...I don’t know,” Dele said anxiously. “I just know that I like you. I like you a lot. Way more than I should,”

Eric smiled widely upon hearing this admission. “I like you too. Not as a friend but...a lot more,”

Relief flooded Dele’s face; words were not needed. Somehow his allured eyes caught Eric and the moment tethered their hearts together. Dele shifted his gaze towards Eric’s full, pink lips and he inhaled. The sound of their breathing filled their desires and Eric leaned upward to plant a long, deep kiss on Dele. Their bodies went still yet Eric could feel his heart palpitate against his chest as he moved his lips softly inside Dele’s mouth. When he couldn’t stand to balance against the weight of his elbow anymore, Eric drew away and rested his head on Dele’s lap.

Dele stared down at him, a bit shell-shocked, a bit stupefied but completely amazed. “So is that a yes?”

Eric stretched his upper body so he could assume the same position Dele had taken early in the day: on his lap, warm and gentle. He grabbed the remote and played the film. “Yes,”  

 

The next day, they were back at the training pitch. Shouts in the air, their boots tapping against the balls, the dew of the grass brushing against their bare skin. Dele was running around cones alongside a series of lads while Eric chose to stretch at the edge again, Stonesy beside him. Every time Dele would run by Eric, they would glance at each other and smile uncontrollably. It had taken place enough times for Stonesy to notice and mention this odd recurrence.

“What’re you two up to?” asked Stonesy, a suspicious grin spreading across his face.

Eric chuckled, turning over his body for a plank. “Um, he...asked me out yesterday,”

Stonesy widened his eyes and opened his mouth in surprise. “Seriously? That’s mad. Like a date?”

“I thought the same thing. I guess we’ve liked each other for awhile now...it doesn’t hurt to try...”

Eric turned his attention back towards the lanky, curly-haired boy hopping through cones, his silky feet far more graceful than of anyone on the pitch, his agility dripping through his positioning. Dele smiled again, his white teeth breaking through all the noise in the world to deliver their joy to Eric. His dimples flashed at Eric, making his heart crumble into itself with pleasure.

“So what’s gonna happen now? You two boyfriends?”

“I dunno, Stonesy,” said Eric. “We’re figuring it out,”


End file.
